Malfoy Moments
by WinterWaters98
Summary: Being a single father is difficult, but Draco finds it has its rather rewarding moments as well.
1. The sick day

***J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter!**

***So, I was inspired by a lot of my readers' questions to write this story. I thought this would be a fun and original way to answer, them, and a lot better than a bland one or two sentence statement. This one was inspired by people asking what it was like for Draco and Blaise when they raised Isobelle when she was younger. Hope you enjoy it!**

***Leave a review! If you want any other short stories, let me know!**

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Blaise needed a drink more than anything. After a hectic day of watching his best friend's daughter, he needed something to calm him down. Not to get him wrong, Blaise loved Isobelle dearly, but she was certainly a handful. How a four-year-old had so much energy, he would never know.

Settling down on the plush sofa in Draco's flat, Blaise unfolded The Daily Prophet and lazily scanned the first page. He scoffed as he skimmed over yet another article speculating as to who Isobelle's mother could possibly be. Admitted, Blaise didn't know himself, but Draco had always seemed touchy about saying anything. If Draco didn't want to say anything, Blaise knew better than to ask. He trusted his best friend.

Blaise checked his watch. Draco would be home in a few minutes. Isobelle had already eaten lunch and taken a nap, and the two of them played a ridiculous game that involved him chasing her around the flat for the better part of a half hour. It was still beyond him how Draco managed to do this every day. He had to give him a mental round of applause.

Light footsteps echoed from the hallway as Isobelle wandered slowly into the living room. She didn't look quite like herself. Her nose was red, and her movements were lethargic. She'd looked much livelier an hour ago.

"When's Daddy coming home?" Isobelle questioned, climbing onto the sofa beside Blaise and cuddling up to him.

"In a few minutes," Blaise answered, closing his newspaper and looking down at the little girl. Although she was definitely Draco's daughter in personality, they barely resembled one another at all. Isobelle had a mane of curly brown hair, not at all similar to Draco's pale, pin-straight locks. The younger Malfoy's face was composed of round lines rather than Draco's angular ones. She looked absolutely sweet and innocent, nothing like her solemn, brooding father.

Isobelle groaned and tucked her feet under herself. "My tummy feels funny," she complained.

That got Blaise's attention. Children, he could deal with. But_ sick _children? Definitely not his forte.

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked hesitantly.

Isobelle clutched her stomach and turned to him. "And my nose feels stuffy. Yesterday Daddy and me played outside and I didn't wear a cloak."

Blaise cursed inside his head. He had no doubt in his mind that Draco was a great father, but there were times when he definitely made some questionable choices. This was one of them.

"Er, do you think you'll be all right until you father makes it home?"

Isobelle shook her head. "No. Uncle Blaise, I'm sick," she whined. "I want my Daddy…"

"He's going to be home soon," Blaise assured her, trying to calm himself as well. He dearly hoped Draco hadn't secretly planned on working late this evening. "He's just got to work to finish up, and then he'll be straight on his way."

Isobelle stared back at Blaise with dubious brown eyes. "How soon?"

Blaise opened his mouth to repeat himself. "He'll be home in a few-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Isobelle closed her eyes and sneezed dead in his face. Blaise had to restrain himself from screaming like a little girl. _Who the hell didn't put a cloak on their child in the middle of December?_

Sheepishly, Isobelle wiped her nose with the sleeve of her robes. Blaise knew Draco would have had a near fit had he ever seen his daughter do such a disgusting thing. Blaise stared at Isobelle for a moment in pure shock.

"Sorry," Isobelle apologized. "I couldn't hold it."

"You know you're supposed to cover your mouth when you sneeze," Blaise chastised her, trying to keep his patience.

"I know. Sorry," Isobelle apologized again. She grimaced. "My tummy still hurts bad."

"But you were fine earlier."

"But now I feel bad," Isobelle said in an exasperated tone. Why didn't Uncle Blaise understand how sick she was? "I want Daddy. Can you use Floo?"

"I can't. I'm sure he's going to be home before you know it."

Isobelle nodded slightly, and then looked at Blaise again. He had a strong feeling that he wasn't going to like what was about to come out of her mouth.

"I have to throw up," Isobelle said quietly, clutching her belly.

This wasn't happening. This _wasn't_ happening! Blaise did a double-take. "Are you sure?" he questioned.

Isobelle nodded.

"Can you make it to the bathroom on your own?" Blaise questioned desperately.

Isobelle shook her head. "Nope. Can you carry me, Uncle Blaise?"

Blaise knew he had no choice, but attempting to carry a sick Isobelle to the bathroom would not end well for either of them. And where the hell was Draco?

Blaise sighed. He wasn't prepared for this. "Come on." He stood and lifted Isobelle off the sofa, holding her in the air at arm's length as he hurried her to the bathroom.

"Stop shaking me!" Isobelle grumbled in a whining tone. Suddenly, she grew quiet and her cheeks puffed up. Blaise prayed to all the higher beings that he was in the midst of a horrible nightmare.

"Keep it in! Keep it in!" Blaise ordered desperately, nudging the door of the bathroom open with his foot. He hastily set Isobelle in the bathtub just as she emptied her stomach's contents. Blaise felt a little sick himself, and instantly regretted allowing Isobelle to have so many sweets at lunchtime. But damn it, he had to give it Draco for having such a cute kid. How could he say no to her?

He couldn't just let Isobelle sit in the bathtub like this. What if Draco came home and saw her with vomit down the front her robes? He definitely wouldn't approve of that. Only _he_ would be smart enough to leave his wand in the other room.

In a desperate attempt to clean her off, Blaise turned on the faucet. Water rushed all over Isobelle, drenching her robes and hair.

"It's cold, Uncle Blaise!" Isobelle shrieked, coughing and crying. "Turn it off! I'm cold!"

"I'm sorry," Blaise apologized distractedly, more focused on keeping his stomach calm.

"_Stop it_!" Isobelle whined in a shrill voice that drilled a migraine into Blaise's head. What else was he supposed to do?

Isobelle sneezed again, and Blaise didn't have it in him to wipe her nose. "You got water in my face!" she screamed, thrashing wildly in the bathtub. Water was getting everywhere.

"Isobelle, calm down," Blaise said with a clenched jaw, in an effort to keep himself calm as well. On the inside, he was just as frazzled as Isobelle, if not more.

"I'M COLD AND I WANT MY DADDY!" Isobelle screamed, beating her fists against the water so that it splashed into Blaise's face.

"I WANT DRACO, TOO!" He shouted back helplessly. So much for remaining calm.

"What was that?" A voice called from the other room. Draco was home. Blaise couldn't decide whether he was relieved for this, or immensely nervous. "Blaise, where are you?"

"I'm in Isobelle's bathroom!" Blaise called back urgently. "For the love of Merlin, help me!"

Draco hurried into the bathroom. "Is everything- are you _drowning_ my daughter?" Draco now had his attention focused on Blaise trying to hold Isobelle into the bathtub. He ran his hand through his hair, wondering why he could never come home to anything normal.

Isobelle reached her hands up for her father. "Help, Daddy!" she cried. Draco hurriedly grabbed a towel from the rack in the corner and shooed Blaise out of the way. He lifted a shivering Isobelle out of the bathtub and wrapped her in the towel. He pressed her close to himself, seeming unbothered that his robes were getting wet as well.

"Care to explain what happened?" Draco asked testily, his eyes trained on Isobelle as she buried her head into his shoulder with a small whimper.

"She got sick, and she vomited, and- Merlin, Draco, she sneezed in my _face_!" Blaise complained in a more feminine voice than was necessary.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. First idiots at work, and now _this?_ Blaise had a knack for being overly dramatic.

"If she's sick, putting her in an ice cold bath is only going to make things worse," Draco informed him bitterly. He laid the back of his hand against Isobelle's forehead. "She has a fever. And I'm sure her robes are ruined now."

"Well, she told me that you let her run around outside with no cloak on. It's _snowing_, Draco! That most likely wasn't a bloody smart idea, either." Blaise argued, accidentally cursing in front of Isobelle. He was certain she wasn't listening, though. Isobelle had her head rested against Draco's shoulder and her eyes were closed. She shivered occasionally.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. "I'm going to give her a _proper_ warm bath, and then lay her down for another nap. I suppose after that I'll see if she can stomach some soup. Excuse me."

Blaise didn't need to be told twice. He gratefully left the bathroom and made sure to shut the door.

Around twenty minutes later, Draco finally made his way out of Isobelle's bedroom. He slumped down on the sofa with a sigh, drying his robes with his wand as an afterthought.

"How's she doing?" Blaise questioned.

"She v another time, which resulted in me having to give her another bath. She's sleeping now," Draco answered, finally shrugging off his cloak. "The poor little thing could barely make it into her pajamas. I suppose I'll take her to see her Healer tomorrow."

"I hope she feels better," Blaise said with concern. Granted, he didn't particularly enjoy rushing Isobelle to the bathroom in a mad dash to prevent her from vomiting all over the place, but he really did care about her, and he babysat her more often than anyone else. It was almost as if Isobelle were _his_ daughter, too.

Draco nodded and turned to his best friend. "So do I. I only have one question, Blaise."

"What's that?"

"What the hell was going through your mind when you decided to throw her in the bathtub?" Draco asked with a small smile. Blaise didn't yet have the luxury (at its finer moments) of being a full-time parent, and that made for some rather interesting moments. He reminded Draco of himself the first couple years of Isobelle's life. Parenting was definitely a trial-and-error process.

Blaise shrugged. "I didn't want her to vomit on me. And I really didn't want her to ruin the carpet."

"Thanks, Blaise… for Isobelle and the carpet."

"You're welcome. It's a very nice carpet."

Draco shook his head in appreciation for his friend. "What would I do without you?" he asked.

"Date and eventually get married?" Blaise suggested. He couldn't remember the last time Draco had gone on a date. "I'm sure that would be a lot less… _suspect_ than two men in their early twenties raising a little girl."

Draco frowned slightly. It always came back to _this_. "I don't think so, Blaise. Not right now."

"Why not? According to Witch Weekly, you're _'One of the Wizarding World's Fittest Bachelors'_, child or no child."

Draco wrung his hands. "But I _do_ have a child. She comes first, you know that," Draco reminded him firmly.

"I know, mate. I know. I'm only saying that it may not be such a bad idea for Isobelle to have a mother in her life. It's not that you aren't doing a great job, because you just proved you're a hell of a lot better at parenting than me, but you can't replace a mother."

Draco stared blankly at the copy of the Prophet on the coffee table. Blaise instantly cursed himself for not getting rid of it. "Isobelle's mother is _gone_. She's out of the picture, Blaise. There's no question about that. And there isn't anything some woman can do for Isobelle that I can't."

"I'm aware. The only thing is, at t_his_ moment, being a single father isn't so terrible. What about ten years from now when she starts dealing with hormones and all that shit?" Blaise shuddered just thinking about it.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Draco resolved. "Right _now_, I've got a very sick four-year-old on my hands. I'm sure I'd prefer a hormonal fourteen-year-old any day."

Blaise chuckled to himself. "Be careful what you wish for."

Draco waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Are you staying for dinner?"

Blaise nodded. "Might as well. Besides, I think I've earned it after surviving such a vicious sneeze to the face."

Draco rolled his eyes at Blaise. His best friend was such a little girl. "Now you get to survive my cooking as well."

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**(A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this one! It was just to get the ball rolling! I'll take requests on any other short stories you want to see! Leave a review ****)**


	2. My new mummy?

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"Isobelle Malfoy, if you step foot on another piece of furniture, we're going to have problems, young lady."

Isobelle climbed down from the sofa, trying to hide a smile. "Sorry, Daddy," she muttered. "I'm practicing my ballet from class today! Wanna see?"

"I'd like to see you make it through the evening without an injury," Draco countered. Upon her constant pleading, Draco had finally enrolled Isobelle in a ballet class. Although he hated being the only father amongst a group of annoying mothers, he enjoyed watching Isobelle have fun.

"Look at my spin!" Isobelle put her arms prettily over her head and performed a well-practiced pirouette.

Draco clapped his hands. "That's beautiful, Belle. I'm glad my money's going to good use."

Isobelle laughed. "Is it six yet, Daddy?"

Draco shook his head. "No, but what time is it? Read the clock." He watched as his daughter glanced at the clock above the fireplace and counted, silently mouthing the words to the numbers as she counted.

"Three numbers left," she said finally. "Um… fifteen minutes left, Daddy?"

Draco nodded with a proud smile. "Very good. Now, what have you decided to do to your hair?" From her mother, Isobelle had inherited a wild mass of curly brown hair. She'd inherited just about everything from her: Her smile, her curious brown eye. Draco preferred not to think of Hermione. Anyone who abandoned their daughter wasn't at all worth his thoughts.

Isobelle shrugged. "Dunno," she said, staring intently at a drawing of hers.

"You'll have to do _something_ with it, you do realize?" Isobelle nodded, clearly not paying him any attention. Draco sighed. He loved his daughter dearly for many things, but her attention span was included nowhere on the list. "Belle, bring me a ribbon and your hairbrush."

"Yes, Daddy." Isobelle hurried off to her bedroom and returned with her silver hairbrush and a long violet ribbon to match her robes. She sat on the floor in front of Draco as he attempted to brush her hair, giggling as Draco uttered the occasional curse word. Finally, he managed to tie the ribbon around her hair in an impressive bow. Every time he did so, Draco felt a bit of his masculinity ebbing away.

"There you are. And please, don't mess it up. Merlin knows I don't have time to do it again."

Isobelle laughed again. "Are you scared for 'Storia?" she questioned, looking up at her father.

Draco shook his head. "Of course not." Tonight, he had finally decided it was time for Astoria to meet Isobelle. They had been together for the better part of a year, and their relationship had grown rather serious. However, if Astoria was unable to get along with Isobelle, he was fully prepared to end the relationship.

Ever since Isobelle had come into his life, Draco had decided against bringing women in and out. Any woman he _did_ date would most likely carry the possibility of becoming Belle's mother. He laughed in his head at the thought. At one point, he'd been one of Wizarding England's most eligible bachelors. Now, he was looking to settle down at the ripe age of twenty-five.

"Is she nice like you said?" Isobelle asked. The entire day, she'd riddled Draco with questions about his significant other. Some were stranger than others, such as Astoria's favorite food or day of the week. He supposed that, in her own childish way, Isobelle was trying to form a concept of the woman for herself. He truly hoped they got along.

"She's very nice, and I'm sure she's just as excited to meet you," Draco assured his daughter.

"She's gonna be my Mummy?" Isobelle asked quietly.

Draco didn't know how to answer. He didn't want to say 'yes' or 'no', as it would be unfair to Isobelle to give her such a definite answer so early on. But he hoped the relationship between himself and Astoria would end in marriage.

"I'm not certain, hopefully," he said, putting his arm around his daughter as she joined him on the sofa with a picture book. "If you like her." Usually, Isobelle didn't seem bothered to have only one parent. Although they were few and far in between, she sometimes questioned Draco about having a new mother or where her own mother went. He tried to answer her as best he could, but assured her she was loved regardless.

When the doorbell rang, Draco's stomach tied itself in knots. "I want you on your best behavior tonight," he reminded Isobelle before getting up to answer the door. She followed him, her energy and talkativeness suddenly gone. As Draco opened the door, Isobelle clung to the backs his trousers.

"Astoria, I'm glad you could make it," Draco said, greeting her with a kiss. From behind him, Isobelle made a small sound, one similar to childish disgust. "Come in." He tried to take a step back but it proved to be quite difficult.

Astoria stepped into the flat. From behind her father's legs, Isobelle watched the woman enter her home. She wore pretty scarlet robes, and they matched her shoes and lips. Her soft blonde hair was curled elegantly, and she wore sparkling jewelry. Isobelle decided quickly that this Astoria woman was the prettiest and most glamorous woman she had ever seen. She carried a large pink gift bag stuffed with heaps of flowered paper.

"She's being shy," Draco said apologetically, trying to pry Isobelle off of him. He'd assumed she would turn quiet once Astoria arrived, as she often did in the presence of other adults, but he hadn't anticipated that Isobelle would actually try to hide from Astoria. He hoped it wasn't a sign.

Astoria bent down, offering the little girl a smile. She hid her face once again behind Draco's legs. Astoria pursed her lips. "It's very nice to meet you," she said kindly. "My name is Astoria. And you are…?"

"Tell her your name," Draco prompted softly, offering Astoria a grateful smile for trying to speak to her.

"Isobelle…" Isobelle muttered quietly. "Isobelle Delphine Malfoy," she added in a rehearsed voice.

Astoria tried to give her another smile. She was a cute little girl, although she didn't at all resemble her father. Her features were dark and soft, whereas Draco was more angled and fair. "What a beautiful name. Well, Isobelle, I've brought a gift for you. Your father told me you liked playing dolls and coloring?"

Isobelle nodded and accepted the gift bag from Astoria. "Thank you," she said in a small voice, although a smile played at the corner of her lips. Then, a bit louder, she asked, "Daddy, may I open it?"

"You'll have to ask Astoria and see when she wants you to open your present," he answered. He mouthed a small 'thank you' to Astoria, who merely returned it with a smile.

"Now is perfectly fine," Astoria told Isobelle, who immediately began ripping the paper out of the gift bag. When she revealed two dolls and a box of coloring quills, she grinned brightly at Astoria. "Do you like them, then?"

"Yes," Isobelle smiled.

"Will you take those to your room?" Draco asked, motioning for a house-elf to clean up the gift paper. "I'm afraid we can't play until after dinner." Once Isobelle was out of earshot, he turned to Astoria. "You're brilliant. If it wasn't for that, I'm sure it would have been an ordeal trying to get her to speak at all."

Astoria shook her head slightly. "It's no matter. It's the least I could do, actually. She seems sweet." Children weren't something she was particularly fond of, but as long as Isobelle remained her quiet self, Astoria was sure she could make do, at least for Draco's sake and her own.

When Isobelle returned, she slipped her hand into Draco's, although she chose to stand on Astoria's side as well. "Is dinner done, Daddy? I'm hungry."

Draco nodded. "We're going to eat now."

"We get to have strawberry cake for dessert," Isobelle informed Astoria. "I chose it. Daddy said I could choose dessert."

"Isn't that kind of him?" Astoria asked with a small smile.

"Do you like strawberry cake?" Isobelle questioned, suddenly seeming uncomfortable with her choice. She didn't want to upset Astoria. What if it made her not want to be her Mummy?

"I adore it," Astoria assured her.

Isobelle smiled again, taking her usual chair at Draco's side. "Me too, it's my favorite, but Daddy says you have to eat all your dinner and vegetables first before dessert," she told Astoria, beginning to spear lettuce onto her fork. "Daddy said we had to use the fancy dinner stuff tonight because you're coming over and I get a surprise if I don't spill anything."

"I'm afraid that since you brought her a gift, she's going to talk your ear off now," Draco said quietly, although he didn't seem apologetic in the slightest. He was glad to see Isobelle opening up.

"It's no matter," Astoria said. "She's adorable."

Isobelle watched quietly as her father spoke to Astoria. They smiled at one another like they were happy. Maybe her Daddy liked Astoria more than she thought.

"Daddy, can I get red robes like 'Storia's red robes?" Isobelle questioned, trying to chew her food and make conversation at the same time.

Draco turned to look at his daughter. "I thought you didn't like the color red?" He asked, raising an accusing eyebrow.

Isobelle sighed. "I didn't, but 'Storia's robes look really pretty and I want some like that. Can I?"

"I suppose, Belle, although I won't quite have the time tomorrow, possibly not even on Sunday-"

"'Storia can take me," Isobelle offered, looking to Astoria for a response.

Astoria nearly choked on her wine. She put her hand to her chest. "I'm sorry," she apologized, looking to Draco for help. "I couldn't… I couldn't overstep. Isobelle, I'm sure it's your father's responsibility to purchase your clothing, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh…" Isobelle nodded sadly, turning her face back to her plate with shame.

"Perhaps Astoria could go with us one day, would you enjoy that?" Draco asked quickly in an attempt to salvage Isobelle's mood. He looked to Astoria for an answer, to which she nodded.

"That would be absolutely wonderful," Astoria agreed. "Don't you think so, Isobelle?"

Isobelle smiled and nodded. "Are you and Daddy gonna be married?" she asked bluntly. "Daddy said you could be my new mummy if I like you and I like you a lot."

"Belle," Draco reprimanded. In hindsight, he realized he most likely should not have said anything on the matter to Isobelle, in case she brought it up to Astoria.

Astoria raised her eyebrows and looked to Draco. "He said that?" she questioned.

Draco averted his eyes from Astoria's gaze in embarrassment. "Well… sort of, I er…"

"We'll have to see about that, won't we?" Astoria questioned, grinning at Isobelle, who smiled back. "It seems Daddy's a little shy at the thought of it." If winning Isobelle's heart was the only task Astoria need complete to marry Draco, she was finding it rather easy. The little girl seemed too satisfied with vague answers.

Isobelle laughed. "Daddy's not shy! He says it's bad to be shy!" She cried, barely able to contain herself.

Draco was glad Isobelle and Astoria could share a laugh at his expense. "I believe it's time for dessert."

Isobelle sat on her knees in the chair, reaching for her glass of pumpkin juice. "Daddy says I can't have the special wine," She said wistfully.

"Certainly not," Astoria agreed. She then turned to Draco with a small look of confusion. "You told me she was very quiet? I'm not seeing that one bit."

Draco shared a look of disbelief with Astoria. "I'm just as surprised as you. She's almost never like this. I think she really likes you." In truth, Draco had thought trying to get Isobelle to speak at all during dinner would have been just as easy as pulling teeth. Ever since he'd sent her to school, he heard endlessly of how quiet and shy she was. If Astoria was able to change that, then she was truly special.

Isobelle watched Astoria and Draco talk as she enjoyed her cake. Her father smiled a lot, which was good. Astoria was really pretty when she smiled, too. "'Storia?" Isobelle questioned, looking up at the blonde woman. She had a small dollop of whipped cream on her nose, but Astoria decided against interrupting her thought.

"Yes?"

"Can we play after dinner?" Isobelle questioned. "I have lots more dolls and paints and dress-up, and puzzles and games…"

Astoria smiled at the little girl. "My, so many options, I have no idea what to choose…"

"You're gonna stay?" Isobelle asked, perking up.

Draco glanced at Astoria sideways, awaiting her response. He didn't want Astoria to feel put on the spot because of Isobelle, but he enjoyed their interaction "I suppose I could," Astoria nodded.

Isobelle pursed her lips. "Good. You have to stay because my real mummy went away forever and she forgot to bring me too."

Unable to respond to such a comment, Astoria looked to Draco, hoping he would say something before she had to. Draco sighed lightly. "I'm going to change her clothes," he said dryly. "I'll be back in ten minutes. Belle, let's change, and we can come back and play with Astoria."

"Kay," Isobelle said, climbing down from her chair and taking Draco's hand. She turned to Astoria. "You're gonna be here until I come back, right?"

Astoria nodded. "I won't move a muscle."

Draco led Isobelle down the hall in silence. Once he'd shut her bedroom door, he sat on the bed and sighed again. "Isobelle, where's your nightgown?"

"Here," Isobelle answered, picking it up.

"Go change into it, and wash your face and hands. "

"Kay, Daddy."

While he waited for Isobelle to come out of the bathroom, Draco allowed himself to slip back into his thoughts. He hadn't been very old at all when Hermione unceremoniously dumped their daughter on him, and for what? For a job? Was she so embarrassed to have a child with him that she'd rather Isobelle suffer?

Isobelle hadn't been the only one Hermione'd hurt. Although he hated to admit it, she'd made his life more difficult as well. At a very young, and _very_ unmarried age, he'd been forced to raise his daughter, have a job, and do his best to grow up- all simultaneously. The press hadn't done much to help. Apparently, guessing Isobelle's mother was one of Wizarding England's favorite pastimes. The theories were outrageous. Each time he walked past Hermione at work, Draco reminded himself nothing anyone could guess would be as horrible as the truth.

"Daddy, can you tie this?"

Somehow, Isobelle had appeared in front of Draco. She moved her hair, letting him help her tie the bow in the back of her nightgown.

"Belle, I want to talk to you about something," Draco said seriously. "Look at me, please."

Isobelle turned around and set her father with her doe eyes. "Yes, Daddy?"

"How do you feel about Astoria?"

"I like her," Isobelle assured her father. "She's nice and she smiles and she's pretty and she gave me a gift."

Draco chuckled slightly. "Wonderful. So, we have to do our very best to make her comfortable, don't we?"

"Yes!" Isobelle nodded. "So can she sit in your big chair-"

"That isn't what I mean. I mean it isn't very kind to speak about your mother in front of Astoria and make her feel left out. We have to include her. I know you miss your mother."

Isobelle gave Draco a sullen look and stood between his knees. She was small for her age, certainly smaller than all the other children in her class. "Sorry, Daddy," she apologized quietly.

Draco looked his daughter in the eye. "None of this is your fault, Belle. None of it," he assured her. He stood up and extended his hand to her. "We can't keep Astoria waiting."

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Draco sat on the sofa and watched as Astoria sat on the floor with his daughter, putting together a puzzle. He loved playing with Isobelle and believed strongly in hands-on-parenting, but always having to engage her often left him exhausted. It would be nice to have a break once in a while.

Isobelle spoke to Astoria with ease, telling her about her school, and her grandparents, and her Uncle Blaise. Astoria sat at a polite distance and did her best to continue the conversation with Isobelle.

As it got later, Draco noticed Isobelle yawning more and more, and she began to rub her eyes.

"Daddy, I'm sleepy," she announced, standing up.

"How about you get some rest?" he suggested. "You've had a tiring day."

"I did ballet class and me and Daddy saw quidditch earlier," Isobelle explained to Astoria. "They hit each other on brooms and they're mean." Isobelle didn't care for the sport but Draco, being the huge fan he was, still managed to catch quite a few matches at his daughter's expense.

Astoria cleaned up the remaining puzzle pieces with her wand and sat on the sofa with Draco. "I bet that was loads of fun."

Isobelle did a cross between a shrug and a headshake. She turned to face Draco once more. "Night, Daddy," she said, adding a hug and kiss to her farewell. "Love you."

"Good night, Belle," Draco said. "Do you want me to tuck you in? Would you like a story?" Isobelle shook her head and moved to stand in front of Astoria. Draco felt his shoulders tense, curious as to what his daughter might say or do.

"Night, 'Storia," Isobelle said, opening her arms for a hug. Without hesitating Astoria hugged her back.

"Good night, Isobelle. It was an absolute pleasure meeting you tonight."

While she was still in Astoria's embrace, Isobelle puckered her lips for a goodnight kiss. Draco felt his cheeks go hot. Astoria didn't seem to mind. She returned Isobelle's offer with a small peck on the lips.

"Good night, Daddy and 'Storia," Isobelle said once more, heading slowly to her room. Her door shut. Draco released an exhausted breath. "Thank you," he said to Astoria.

"You're welcome," Astoria said easily. "You've done well with her."

Draco fidgeted with his hands. "I'll understand if you think it's too much responsibility… I don't want to push anything on you-"

"You're not doing that at all," Astoria said kindly. "It would be fun to have a daughter."

Draco wanted to leap at the news. Of course, it would take Isobelle and Astoria more time to get to know each other, but the situation looked very promising.

Pursing her lips, Astoria turned to Draco with a serious look. "So, what exactly is the situation with Isobelle's mother? I wouldn't want her to-"

"She's gone," Draco said simply. "She isn't to see Isobelle, or speak to her, none of it. That was the arrangement the two of us made."

Astoria nodded, waiting for Draco to say more. "Isobelle's never met her?"

Draco shook his head. "Not once. It's better that way. She's only five, so I think now is an appropriate time to introduce her to someone new."

"She's five?" Astoria asked, surprised. "She's little."

Draco nodded his agreement. "But it seems like she's getting bigger every day. I don't know why it feels that way, I suppose it's since she grows faster than I can keep up with, I'm always at work…"

Astoria put a consoling hand on Draco's arm. In all her years of going to school with him during the War, she'd never seen the vulnerability that he had now, all because of a little girl. "Parenting is difficult, or so I've heard. You can only do what you believe is right."

Draco took a deep breath. Although it wasn't the most descriptive of advice, she was making an effort, which meant a great deal. "You don't know how thankful I am to have met you."

Astoria blushed slightly. "You don't have to flatter me, Draco. I love you," she said kindly. "And I'll love Isobelle too."

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